Double Trouble
by kbeto
Summary: Sequel to "Road to the Top". Derek's confused, Stiles' excited about his birthday party, Isaac has sinful hands, Scott has to hone his social skills, and Erica just wants everyone to bang already. Things are never really calm for a candidate to Pokémon League Champion. Sterek, still a lot of game references, rated T for slightly wrong sense of humor.


_Disclaimer: I'm doing this for fun, no profit involved._

_A/N: __I got sidetracked by some other stories and feels (some days bed-rdden, too). Big thanks to **Inlovewith** and the nice **anon** on tumblr for wanting more of this whacky crossover, as well as everybody who enjoyed Road to the Top._

Double Trouble 

"Why would you even say that in front of them, Uncle Peter?"

"I didn't lie, did I?" Peter grinned, taking a box of Dusty Stones from Derek's hands and placing it on the top shelf. "This is the first time in ages you show interest in anyone, why not make the most of it?"

Derek knew deep inside he had lost the argument before it even started. Truth to be told, ever since the whole incident with Kate, he lost faith completely in humans, choosing to keep his interaction with them to a minimal; he doubted many people had their girlfriend turned out to be a Team Plasma Admin bent on stealing rare pokémon, going as far as kidnapping part of their family.

"But—"

Peter pointed to a different box, labelled 'Jagged Rocks'. "You shouldn't close your heart to love, nephew of mine. Remember there's nothing more powerful—"

"—than human love, I know. You say that all the time," Derek groaned, handing his uncle the designated box. Maybe his mind was full of confused thoughts about Stiles, or maybe he was too pissed that Peter played matchmaker for him, but for some reason Derek failed to acknowledge another person entering the shop.

"Do my ears deceive me, or my young man really has a crush on somebody?"

"Mom!" Derek all but shrieked. He didn't intend it to come out as high-pitched and pathetic as it did, though. Well, _too late_.

Talia grinned wide, walking to Derek with her arms wide open. She enveloped her son into a tight hug, receiving a squeeze of same intensity right back. "I thought you were supposed to try your luck at the Victory Road today. What happened?" she asked, grabbing her son at arm's length.

"Cute trainer," Peter fake coughed, his decision of ignoring Derek's glare more than blatant. "Sis, I need to talk to you about the Raffle Shop, that thing is handing out more Berry Juice than a horde of Shuckles on Foongus tea!"

"That can wait, Pete," Talia waved her hand dismissively, leading Derek through the door. "It's time for some much needed mother-son talk."

~#~

When Stiles and Scott walked in, Claudia frowned. She knew for a fact that her son could take on Elite Four and come back victorious, but she also knew it wouldn't be _that_ fast. Wasn't he supposed to go through the whole Victory Road and then fight four hard battles in a row? That would take him three days to accomplish his goals, and she knew something was _wrong_.

"I'm back, Mom! Where's Dad?" Stiles hopped on a stool, being followed by Scott —with his Zorua on his head— and Isaac, who greeted Claudia with a courteous _"Hi, Mrs. Stilinski" _each_._ "There's something I gotta tell him..."

Claudia nodded, taking in every word with concern. Stiles being serious had _never_ been a good thing. "Sounds pretty serious, Boyo. What happened this time?"

"Are you telling her you're not competing at the Pokémon League, or are we talking about Derek?" Scott pipped in, leaving his best friend mortified. Way to break news. For an excellent Pokémon Breeder, Scott's social skills sometimes left much to be desired.

"You're not competing? And Who's Derek?" Claudia asked, frantically wiping her hands on her green apron.

Stiles sighed at the sight of his mother grinning at him her chin propped on her hands. Claudia had leaned over the counter and closer to him —looking around for invisible eavesdroppers— like she expected some sort of top secret information to be disclosed, and Stiles knew he would be better off telling her before she got too prying (wouldn't take long, anyway).

An elaborate narrative about postponing his challenge (and a large portion of Spoink-y Fries) later, Stiles bid his friends goodbye, watching them fly on into the sunset on Scott's Gyarados— he would make sure to tease Isaac about almost snapping Scott in two. Also, 'riding a flying sea serpent into the sunset' made Stiles' work _so_ much easier.

"I better go check on Dad," Stiles spoke mainly to himself, fumbling with his pokéballs. "Come with me, Scott." His Whimsicott popped out, emitting a very cheery sound and latching at his head. The pokémon looked like a giant wig on Stiles' head, and he and poké-Scott laughed at their own reflection on the shiny doors of the Nacrene Museum, before entering the place.

~#~

"Are you interested in him?"

"I don't— I don't know," Derek admitted, looking at his mug with a rather contemplative look. There was no point in lying to his mother, and that would be one of the times he really wished he were a human boy. Neither Laura nor Cora were around to pest him about Stiles, and his dad had yet to return from the Dojo, leaving him and Talia to have a nice, long talk.

Talia reached a hand to squeeze her son's. "It's been long since I saw your eyes light up like that when talking about a battle," she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not saying that you're _in love_ with him and are planning on getting eloped, but you certainly took a _liking_ to him."

A snort. Derek couldn't even force himself to fathom the idea of liking Stiles, least of all running away to marry the guy. "He's an annoying kid with an even more annoying passion for nicknaming his pokémon!" His response didn't come out too convincing, as his mom just nodded with an ever knowing smile on face; sometimes he forgot where Laura got her shit-eating grin from.

"And you're going to this _unthinkably_ annoying kid's birthday party because...?" Talia arched her eyebrows up. Her effort to look serious for a minute was more than evident in the way her lips twitched at the corners.

"Because he invited me and I _wasn't_ raised in the depths of Chargestone Cave?"

"Good point," she agreed, releasing his hand and going to sip from her tea. "Still, be sure to give him a nice present, something you know he'll like or will make him happy!"

"You're making it sound like a date, Mom," Derek exhaled, pushing his chair back and bending down to kiss Talia's head.

He decided to ignore the way her eyes seem to smile from behind her mug, and left to help Peter finish stacking boxes, intent on keeping his mind occupied with other thoughts than what his present to Stiles would be.

~#~

As certain as a Basculin in a river, Stiles found his dad inside the office —in the back— swamped in paper, eyes scanning every report with great precision. John had always been a hard worker, and even Stiles' earliest memories were mainly composed of seeing him doing some paperwork or reinforcing the law around the city, honouring his position in the International Police as Nacrene's Sheriff.

"Hey, Dad!"

"Hey, Son! Come in!" John gestured to two empty chairs in front of his desk, ushering Stiles and poké-Scott to join him— although the Whimsicott preferred to make itself comfortable on the older Stilinski's head. "What happened? I'm _sure_ I saw you leave this morning for the Pokémon League?"

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. Knowing he had to break the news to his dad didn't mean he actually thought of _how_ he would do it. "That, uh— How can I say it in a not so bad way?"

The Sheriff lowered his glasses, letting a long sigh out. He didn't need his investigation skills to know where the ole good _please-don't-be-mad_ speech pattern would lead their conversation. "You're _not_ competing, am I right?"

"I am _totally_ going to conquer the Pokémon League!" Stiles blurted, leaning forward. "Just... not until my birthday party," he added the last part in a small voice, averting his dad's gaze.

"Any _special_ reason that led you to this sudden change of heart?"

"There's this guy I met—"

Stiles couldn't even finish what he wanted to say. The next instant he found himself shrinking on his chair, a very bright lamp over his head blinding him, and John scrutinizing his face with narrowed eyes. It would be comical if wasn't so _tragic. _"I have a few questions about _'this guy'_."

_Yup._ Interrogation time. Oh, the perks of being an officer's child. For some reason or another, it seemed that disclosing the fact Derek's eyes can change color would _not_ weight in his favor, and so Stiles decided to 'forget' all about that tiny detail; he didn't knew much about Derek, anyway.

~#~

Three days later, and Stiles was all over the place with excitement. How could he not be? The warehouse beside the Museum had been remodelled into a huge ballroom, with a tall stage where Roxie and the Venipedes could be seen tuning their instruments and finishing sound check— everything for free, as it would be Stiles' present. Loblolly, their crazy and creative neighbor, volunteered to decorate with some of her new pieces (free of charge), so in the end, the Stilinski family didn't have to pay anything else than the food and drinks to be consumed.

"I heard there's a wicked party happening, and I'm ready for it!"

"Lead the way, Blondie," Stiles grinned, turning on his heels to see Erica, Scott and Isaac at the entrance. He hugged each of the three, pointing them to some shelves where they should put the presents for him. "I'm glad you all made it; wouldn't be the same without you, boys and girl!"

"Maybe me and Isaac should consider the trainer life, because riding a Gayrados is much more fun than the subway," Erica told Stiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Perhaps now her dad wouldn't worry so much about her going on a journey of her own, Stiles thought.

"It's _Gyarados,_ not Gayrados."

"Whatever, Scott. I have to celebrate my best friend's adulthood with some drinks!" she shrugged, letting a _woo-hoo_ out and dragging Isaac by his forearm.

"I'm not sure it's safe to let her drink," Scott sighed, knitting his eyebrows together. "She's a handful as she is."

Stiles chuckled, waving Isaac goodbye. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Scottie."

~#~

Two hours in, and Derek still hasn't shown up. In fact, Stiles started to doubt the older boy even liked parties, or that he wanted to be Stiles' friend. His Xtransceiver accused no missed calls or messages, and that only made the birthday boy more anxious. Anxious to the point that he didn't notice when a tall figure walked behind him, until he heard a whispered question and hot breath tickled his skin.

"I hope I'm not too late."

"Derek!" Stiles leapt in surprise, clutching at his heart. His knee-reaction of slapping Derek's chest kind of hurt his hand. "Are you— you trying to give me a heart attack, Pecs of Steel?!"

Derek smirked. The urge Stiles felt for punching that shit-eating grin off his face just wasn't bigger than an urge to kiss those lips with passion. Yeah, maybe or maybe not Stiles had some _not-so-dry_ dreams about Derek, don't judge. "I don't think your parents would appreciate that."

"You're right about that, sonny. Are you the 'famous' Derek?"

_Shit just hit the fan_, Stiles thought, seeing John glaring at Derek from behind. However, his fear turned out to be short-lived when he opened his eyes again and saw the two shaking hands and chatting in an odd familiarity.

"You're the son of Sheriff Stilinski, the Normal-type specialist Gym Leader! Why didn't you say anything?" Derek frowned. Suddenly the tables were turned on Stiles, because his own dad also questioned why he wouldn't _"say anything about being friends with Talia's son"_.

The shit Stiles had to go through in his life didn't ever seem to end.

~#~

"You're going to love this," Scott beamed, handing Stiles a medium sized-box wrapped neatly— without a doubt Melissa's work. "I'm positive of that!"

Tearing the wrapping paper, Stiles found a set of incenses encased in a crystal clear box. Full, Lax, Wave, Odd, Luck, Pure, Rock, Rose and Sea Incense; he got one of each variety. "Nothing less I would expect from a Pokémon Breeder. Thanks, man," he bumped fists with his best friend.

"Open mine!" Erica unceremoniously dropped a small box on Stiles' lap, that he hoped wasn't an engagement ring —too small to be a Diglett dildo. Voicing his concerns prompted her to slap him behind the head. "Always the clown, Stilinski."

It really was something unexpected, a gift card to download new skins for his C-gear and two tickets for a two days cruise aboard Royal Unova. The contents of a birthday card she attached to them would remain unread till Stiles found himself back in the solitude of his room; he had a very clear idea of what to expect, if Erica's mischievous grin was anything to go by.

And so Stiles kept opening present after present, some being really amazing and useful, like the gardening kit —comprised of Berry Pots, SquirtBottle and a really wide set of Mulches/Berries— he got from Isaac or the Porygon and Dubious Disc/Up-grade he got from his parents, to other being as dull and purposeless as a set of Fluffy Tails or Poké Toys. It wasn't until it was Derek's turn to hand Stiles his present, that Carter (John's assistant) broke through the door asking for the Sheriff.

"Emergency, Sir! Two thieves stole the Dark Stone and the guards' pokémon!"

"And it all has to happen on my day off," John sighed, throwing one of his pokéballs up. "Odor Sleuth, Sandy!" Stoutland sniffed the air, barking in response to the smell of the bandits.

They were almost out the door when Stiles stopped then and volunteered to go search for the criminals. Well, 'volunteered' translated into Stiles snatching Sandy's pokéball and threw Spiro's to his dad, but he had no time for petty details.

Derek also ran by, leaving the warehouse with the speed of an athlete. There's a possibility that his sharp hearing caught Erica whispering _"Now he's alone with his parents-in-law"_ to Isaac, though nobody could say for sure.

~#~

"Did you really think you could get away from me in this forest? I grew up playing hide-and-seek here, losers," Stiles waggled his index finger, using his other hand to pet Sam's head and thank the Stoutland for locating the thieves so quickly. "How about you hand me that stone and pokéballs back, huh?"

The female grunt reached for the pokéballs on her belt, with a distressed look. Neither her or her partner seemed to be willing to cooperate with Stiles, though they didn't have any way out, as Derek emerged from inside the log/slop on the left, successfully trapping both criminals atop the plateau.

"Team Plasma doesn't take orders from anyone outside Team Plasma, brat."

Stiles smirked, looping an arm around Derek's shoulder. "You see this dashing, brooding dude who just stalked me here? He doesn't like criminals much, either."

Derek rolled his eyes upon having his chest patted. What could be more dreadful, the fact that Stiles was trying to scare the Team Plasma's grunt using him, or the fact that Stiles used the words 'dashing' and 'stalked' to refer to him? Derek just didn't know which to pick.

"We're not going down without a fight," the male grunt tightened the grip on the straps of his bags, taking a step behind. He also reached for his pokéballs, mimicking his partner, though he had a more composed look on his face. One that screamed battle. "We'll decide this two on two, how 'bout that?"

"I'm more than enough to deal with you two. I don't really—"

"We're good," Stiles cut Derek mid-sentence, giving the other boy an assuring nod.

The faster they beat criminal duo, the faster they would be back to an insane party at Nacrene City. Part of him also trembled with excitement at the prospect of doing a Double Battle with Derek Hale, though he probably wouldn't admit that even to his own father— things got strange enough after John recognised Derek and began talking about pokémon.

"What he said," Derek begrudgingly agreed. "Go, Morris."

A Metagross appeared in the middle of the field, stomping its four legs with force. The vision of the psychic would always be a sight to admire, but what caught Stiles' attention wasn't the imposing appearance of Derek's pokémon. It was something completely different.

"You nicknamed your Metagross? _You?_" 99% sure he saw Derek blush. "I'm only asking because that seems too odd for you, no need to answer if it's something private."

"Shut up and focus, _kid_."

"I love when you get bossy on my ass," Stiles snorted. "I'm counting on you, Scott!"

A huge ball of cotton-like fur floated until it landed on Metagross' head. The two pokémon seemed to exchange some words of acknowledgement, before Morris turned to his master with an annoyed look —not that Stiles would know, because Metagrosses do that thing where they look pissed at the world 24/7.

"Scott will be fighting with us. Be sure to get along with him, Morris." The pokémon gave out an approval grunt —or so it seemed— to Derek's words and faced the adversary again.

"You'll regret being born! Scolipede and Krookodile, attack!" Team Plasma yelled in unison, releasing their own pokémon.

Krookodile's Intimidate proved useless against Metragross' Clear Body, lowering only Scott's attack; didn't make much of a difference, since the fluffy pokémon rarely relied in physical attacks (if any attack at all). Scolipede, on the other hand, towered over them with the height and usual air of superiority typical of its species, antlers dangerously surveying the environment.

"Bug and Ground types? I guess it's safe to say evil duo know what they're doing," Stiles muttered to himself. He certainly didn't mean to share his impression with anybody else, reason why Derek telling him to stay clear from the giant Bug pokémon came out as a surprise.

"Krookodile, Earthquake!" The Plasma boy ordered. At the same time his —presumed— twin commanded Scolipede to use Agility.

"Gotta be faster than that, buddy. Scott, Tailwind!"

A gust blew from behind Stile's team, allowing Metagross to close in on Krookodile before the Ground-type pokémon could move. With a foreleg shrouded in a blue hue, Morris knocked its adversary down in one swift blow, much to Derek's satisfaction and their opponents' discontentment.

"Ethan, you big idiot, what are you doing?" Plasma girl spat, slapping the boy in the arm. "Tear that tumbleweed apart, Scolipede! Megahorn!"

"Intercept with Zen Headbutt." Derek knew his Metagross wouldn't be as fast as a boosted Scolipede, yet he hoped against hope— a powerful Bug move was bound to deal great damage on Whimsicott, probably knocking the Grass pokémon down.

It wasn't till he noticed small tufts of cotton clinging to Scolipede —as well as the drop in its speed— that he realised that Stiles had been smiling shyly at him.

"Cotton Spore," Stiles shrugged, rubbing a finger against the underside of his nose. "I thought I could give you a hand for looking out for me and my pokémon. I told there's a really a cool dude underneath your _I'm-not-here-to-make-friends-I'm-here-to-be-Unova's-next-top-model _attitude, Derek."

The sound of Scolipede's enormous body crashing against the ground shook Derek out of his daydream. What was so fascinating about this kid that kept him in a perpetual state of awe, anyway? Derek just couldn't find an answer, or perhaps was too much scared to accept certain feelings.

"We're battling together, aren't we?" He averted Stiles' gaze and cleared his throat before speaking again. "Good job, Morris."

~#~

"They're taking too long! We should have followed them!"

"Calm down, Scott," Isaac put a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing it tight. "You really think Stiles would lose to a bunch of Team Plasma's goons?"

Scott sighed, feeling another hand take over his shoulder. The movements started slow, increasing in speed and pressure with each passing second, till it turned into a proper massage. _Fuck. _The things Isaac's hands did —more than likely— figured in the list of 10 most sinful acts of humanity, and Scott wasn't even thinking about anything remotely sexual. Well, maybe a little _bit._

"I suggest you two to get a room and come back when you're done. I've been choking on sexual tension all night, and Stiles and Derek aren't even here now." Within a few seconds, Isaac flinched from Scott with crimson ears, gave a garbled speech of an excuse and fled to the bar. "He got embarrassed! He's always so cute!"

A groan escaped Scott's lips, as he turned to watch his friend suck from a crazy straw, who stared back at him with big doll eyes. "You're the worst, Erica. You know he's not comfortable with your jokes about us being together."

Erica laughed, one hand coming to play with her own curls. "Shush, McCall! It wouldn't be so bad if you two just admitted the truth to yourselves."

"I need better friends," Scott sighed again. Hopefully, Stiles would be back to celebrate his own birthday before everyone decided to leave.

~#~

Ailen and Ethan —as their small argument let Stiles know— were fuming with rage about their sequential defeats. Their whole plan had gone awry the moment the 'Sheriff's kid' caught up to them and they had to actually battle their way out, something that their boss would _chew_ them for.

"We'll take them down with all our might," Ailen told her brother, who nodded back in response. Ferrothorn and Dusknoir also seemed ready to revenge their fallen poké-fellows, whipping tentacles and cracking knuckles, respectively.

The twins yelled _"Ferrothorn, use Curse!"_ and _"Dusknoir, Trick Room!"_ from one side of the battlefield, while _"Taunt, Scott!"_ and _"Hone Claws." _came from Stiles and Derek's side. Dusknoir —being flipped off by Whimsicott— punched the ground beneath it, and did nothing else, at the pace that Ferrothorn glowed in an ominous way, watching Metagross rub forelegs together and fill the air with the scraping sound of metal against metal.

"Intercept with Iron Defense," Derek commanded, and Morris jumped between Scott and Ferrothorn, taking minimal damage from a hard-hitting Gyro Ball.

A potentially dangerous Fire Punch got interrupted by quick thinking and Encore on Stiles' part, giving Derek enough time to boost Morris' special offense with successive use of Calm Mind —all after using Worry Seed to replace Dusknoir's Pressure with Insomnia. It resembled the same strategy Tyranitar fell victim to on the first time they battled, Derek thought.

"Time to take the scary one down. What you say, Derek, dear?" Stiles pointed to the Ghost pokémon deadlocked on a Taunt-Encore routine.

Derek smiled, shaking his head. The feeling of excitement boiling in his guts surpassed even the one he had battling Stiles, something that made him feel strange. "Only if you're willing to lend me a hand, _dear."_

"Quite literally," Stiles winked back. "Scott, time for a Helping Hand!"

Whimsicott clapped its tiny hands together thrice, then touched Metagross, transferring a white glow to the Steel pokémon. Metagross then shot a Shadow Ball, defeating Dusknoir with a clean hit.

"This is your last pokémon and I doubt you can take on the two of us at once," Stiles spoke in an unusual serious tone, walking forward with his right hand outstretched. "Give back what you stole."

Ethan stared at his sister, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. Ailen seemed livid about their predicament, chewing so hard on her bottom lip that she actually drew blood from it— as a crimson stain on her mask evidenced.

"This was our chance of being both promoted to Plasma Admin, thanks for spoiling our future," she spat, tearing the stained cloth from her mouth. "Now that we have nothing else, the same should be true for you two, too. Explosion, Ferrothorn."

"Take the bag back, Scott! Switcheroo!" A tuff of Whimsicott zoomed in on Ethan and swirled around, just in time that Morris put up a Reflect —at Derek's command— to protect itself and Scott. Stiles was already too distant to be shielded when Ferrothorn glowed white and exploded engulfing the surrounding area in an immense fireball.

"Stiles, are you all right?" Stiles opened his eyes to see a shirtless body hovering over his. "I'm glad I could make it in time," Derek smiled. And for the first time it didn't feel like his usual shit-eating grin or that smug _I'm-Derek-Hale-and-I'm-better-than-you_ smirk; it was a smile of relief.

"What are you— Derek?!" All pieces fell into place as soon as Stiles saw Derek fall unconscious beside him, backside badly burnt. "Stein, help a buddy out! Healing Wave!"

Slowking popped from his pokéball, its expression turning sour upon seeing Derek's state. The gem on Stein's crown glowed and a warm wave began nursing Derek's skin back to full health, while Stiles held his friend's hand in his. "Come on, big guy! You can't give me shit like this!"

"I helped speed up his healing factor, Master. It's up to his own willpower living or not."

Stiles froze. Maybe he'd hit his head in the explosion, because there was a 99% chance he just heard Stein speak to him. "Stein, did you speak to me?"

"Why yes, young Master. I'm impressed that you finally understood my voice," the Slowking adjusted the ruff around its neck, looking rather pleased. "I'll put the fire down before it burns the forest," Stein bowed, before going to Metagross and Scott for help it with a combined Rain Dance.

"And I'm impressed you would cry for somebody like me," Derek grunted, propping himself on one elbow. His free hand cupped one of Stiles' cheek, thumb sweeping a tear away— though the moment got ruined by Stiles' tackle-hug. "Thank you for saving me."

"_You were the one jumping between me and a huge explosion you, dickhead! Don't do that ever again!" _coupled with a few tears ended their argument, and Derek accepted that, returning the hug received.

~#~

The boys arrived at Nacrene ridding a Magnet Rise'd Moriss, Derek sleeping from exhaustion in Stiles' arms, involved in a Cotton Guard blanket. After reporting to his Dad what happened in the Pinwheel Forest and apologizing to his guests, Stiles headed back to his house to take care of his injured friend; he truly felt responsible for Derek's condition, guilt eating his insides.

"Dad said he's going to call your mom," he whispered, running a hand through Derek's hair —which turned out to be pretty soft— absent-mindedly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into that mess, I should've been more careful around those _kamikaze_ twins... couldn't even save their pokémon from being roasted."

"I'm glad you're unscathed, _kid_."

Stiles grinned at the sight of Derek grumbling words, a weary smile on his face. For some reason he seemed to enjoy that smile a bit too much. Maybe because it was rare to see Derek genuinely smiling, he wondered. "Don't scare me like that ever again, _punk_. I didn't take you to a hospital only because Aunt Melissa and her Audino said you weren't in danger."

"My kind don't die so easily," Derek snorted, this time opening his eyes a little bit. He stared back at Stiles with fondness, taking in moles and each detail of the boy's features, before pulling Stiles down into a brief —albeit slow— kiss. "The Hale clan isn't _that_ weak."

Stiles licked his lips. "I really doubt the strongest move in the world is something to be taken lightly, you idiot."

A dramatic sigh. "If you say so. At least let me give you your present," Derek pushed himself into a sitting position, resting against the headboard. His belt dangled from the top of a nightstand, and all he had to do was reach a hand out to snag a pokéball and throw it to his self-appointed nurse. "Happy Birthday, Stiles."

The green pokéball Stiles had in hands was not like any other he saw before. It kind of resembled a Nest ball, although the tone wasn't completely right (and neither were the markings). Even for a Safari ball —which Stiles never had the satisfaction of holding— it seemed weird, unless they didn't come in camouflage print anymore, that is.

"Uh..."

"It's a Friend ball and it's a better option than a Love or Luxury ball. For Arceus' sake, just open the damn thing!" Derek snapped, feeling flustered from explaining himself. Apparently, he'd regained enough of his health back to activate his sassy mojo, and Stiles wasn't sure it was a good thing.

Doing as told, Stiles came face-to-face with a grumpy-looking Poochyena, which growled back at him. The pokémon then assumed a more friendly attitude —Derek growled and flashed his eyes at it— scooting over to lick Stiles' hand, something the boy reciprocated with an effusive belly rub.

"He's adorable! Thanks, Big guy!" Stiles helped the canine pokémon onto his lap. "I think I'll name him 'Mike', although his personality and eyebrows scream 'Derek'... Maybe I should go with 'Derek' instead!"

Derek only narrowed his eyes and lifted a threatening index finger. "Don't."

~Fin~

_A/N: This one focused more on their relationships than actual battles, I know. Thought it would bring a good balance! :) The Diglett joke comes from a tumblr post filed under 'cannot be unseen'. BWAhahaha! Oh, and it's not my fault Gyarados can't learn Fly, sometimes the game doesn't make too much sense. *shrugs*_


End file.
